Greenleaf's Day Out
by SOTWK
Summary: While his parents are away from home, a mischievous young Legolas escapes from his nursemaid's charge and spends the day tailing the elves he idolizes most...his four older brothers. Both chaos and comedy ensue!
1. Chapter 1 - A Surprise in the Kitchens

GREENLEAF'S DAY OUT

Approx. Third Age 250

The Woodland Realm, Greenwood the Great

**Chapter 1 – Surprise in the Kitchens **

Though it was barely past the hour of dawn, the palace kitchens serving the home of the Elvenking of Greenwood was already alive and bustling with activity. First priority on their agenda as usual would be serving breakfast to the Royal Family.

That day, the work of the kitchens was slightly lessened by the absence of the monarchs from the palace. King Thranduil was currently traveling around his kingdom, checking on certain villages and inspecting the sentry outposts at the borders. He was not to return until at least the next day. Queen Maereth on the other hand, was on a courtesy visit to Imladris, in acceptance of an invitation from some friends. She was expected back the palace by that evening.

This left the King's five sons, the princes of the realm, to be served. The princes always started early in the morning, as their father kept a full schedule for them each and every day. Unless their parents called for a family gathering, the young royals ate morning meals in their respective rooms.

Aradiel, one of the palace cooks, bent over a hot bread oven. She stuck her mitten-covered hands inside and was drawing out a freshly baked loaf when she felt a tugging at her skirts. Straightening up with the bread pan in her hands, she looked down to see a pair of huge blue eyes staring up at her.

"Your Highness!" she gasped, her surprise nearly causing her to drop the loaf on his shiny golden head. Fumbling with nervousness, she gave a quick curtsy to the elfling before walking briskly to the table and setting the bread down. "W-why have you come, my lord? Is there anything you need? Breakfast will be ready for serving in just a moment."

"That's good, because I'm starving!" the blond princeling announced cheerfully. Much to Aradiel's bewilderment, he pulled up a chair to the table and sat on it, his little legs dangling off the floor. A small hand reached for the newly-baked bread, but he withdrew it quickly with a wince.

"Careful, my lord," Aradiel said quickly. "It is still hot." She reached for another platter of bread at the fully laden table and set it before the prince. "Perhaps you would like this instead."

The child reached for the bread but wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Don't!"

"D-don't what my lord?" the young elf-maid stammered.

"Don't call me 'Lord'!" he said, his face breaking into an impish smile. "It makes me sound old! My name's Legolas." He stuck out his hand to the red-faced she-elf. "What's yours?"

"A-aradiel…my lord."

"Did you make this, Aradiel?" Legolas asked, as he pinched off another chunk of the loaf and filled his mouth with it. "It's delicious!"

Aradiel finally managed a relaxed smile. "Th-thank you, your Highness."

"Prince Legolas!'' Both maid and prince turned to the kitchen doorway at the sound of the cheery, booming voice. Elvomir, a palace butler that supervised the kitchens, walked to their table with his fists on his hips but a broad smile on his face.

"Out exploring already, and at so early an hour?" he asked, shaking his head. "Are you not supposed to be in bed still? And where is Ninniel?"

"I'm not sure," Legolas replied innocently. He bit off another piece of bread and swallowed it. "She was still sleeping when I woke up. I was hungry but I did not want to wake her, so I came here."

"Tsk, tsk. She is probably still tired from all the time she spent chasing you around last night," Elvomir said with a grin. He looked up and spoke to Aradiel. "It's all right, you can return to your chores. I shall be the one to attend to our royal guest here."

Before a half-hour was through, the little prince managed to finish the hefty breakfast of bread, cheese, eggs and sausages that Elvomir served him. After gulping down the last of his milk, Legolas wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and thanked the butler before sliding off the chair.

"But where are you off to now, young prince?" Elvomir called after him, as he headed for the door. "Perhaps I should escort you to your room…"

"You don't have to, Elvomir," Legolas replied, shaking his head merrily. "I'm sure I can find my way back. I know my way around the palace better than you think!"

Elvomir chuckled. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of." he said. "All right, off you go then! Back to Ninniel, and nowhere else before then, all right?"

"I promise!" Legolas called back, as his golden head disappeared through the door.

Just a short while after the youngest prince left, a pretty but harried looking maid-servant entered the kitchens.

"Good morning, Ninniel," Elvomir greeted her cheerfully. "If it is your charge that you seek, you just missed him. He's had his breakfast and left here but a few minutes ago.

"Oh dear! How can such a sweet little elfling have the energy and cunning of a rascal? Now I shall spend the entire morning trying to find him!" Ninniel cried, shaking her head. She sank into a nearby chair to rest and catch her breath. "And I still cannot believe I overslept! How I shall pay for that mistake now!"

"Surely you exaggerate!" Elvomir said, chuckling. "Don't you fret so much! I asked his Highness to go straight to his room and meet you. Surely you will still find him there if you go now."

Ninniel had to laugh at that. "I wish I shared your optimism, but I should know better. Legolas is a good lad, but he does have his naughty side. He does not enjoy having someone following him around, waiting on him hand and foot, so he would not let me catch up with him for as long as he can help it!"

She shook her head and sighed. "Part of me wishes to give him his freedom, but my duty to the Queen requires me keep a close watch on him to at least TRY to keep him out of trouble!"

At last the elf-maid took a deep breath and got to her feet once more. "Well, I suppose I should get to looking for him now, though I'm still doubtful of how much luck I could have."

She smiled ruefully at her own folly. "Clever little fellow certainly knew what he was doing when he snuck out on me this morning!"


	2. Chapter 2 - Boxing Lessons

GREENLEAF'S DAY OUT

Approx. Third Age 250

The Woodland Realm, Greenwood the Great

**Chapter 2 – Boxing Lessons **

After changing out of his nightclothes and into a fresh tunic and leggings, Legolas left his chambers once more before his nursemaid could return and find him there.

"Well, it is not my fault Ninniel was no longer in my room when I came back," the elfling thought cheerfully to himself as he walked alone down the palace halls. "I did not break my promise to Elvomir, really."

Since it was still early in the day, the palace halls were clear of its usual crowd of nobles and servants rushing about taking care of their business. Legolas knew it would be best to stay out of sight as much as possible, especially from the palace guards. They would surely take him to Ninniel once they noticed him loitering about on his own.

Usually, the child prince spent his days in the company of his dear mother, who personally administered his schooling. Long hours were spent in his study, practicing his letters, reading books and manuals, as well as receiving instruction on court etiquette. If the Queen was for some reason made unavailable, supervision was delegated to one of the court scholars, stuffy old elf-lords who were very strict and without an ounce of humor.

Thankfully, this time, his Naneth agreed to give him a few days' vacation while she was on her trip to Imladris. He was free to do whatever he pleased, so long as he stayed out of trouble. He was also to mind Ninniel's instructions, and not give her a difficult time.

"She hasn't given me any instructions," Legolas continued to reason out loud as he made his way through the main corridors. "I would not disobey her if she did. When she finds me I shall do as she asks, but until then…

An impish grin curled his lips, matching the sparkle in his eyes. IF she found him, that is!

After nearly running into a number of servants and palace guards who would have compromised his stolen freedom, Legolas decided to just sneak out of the palace and explore the outer grounds of the palace. The open gardens would lessen the chances of him getting suspected and caught.

"Perhaps I would even see one of my brothers there!" Legolas realized, the excitement from the thought causing him to quicken his step. Surely the older princes were up and about taking care of business by now.

Once outside, the elfling chose a stone path and followed it until he came to a wide clearing surrounded by a thick circle of trees. Upon seeing the small crowd of familiar he-elves gathered there, Legolas realized he had come to the one of the isolated areas where the warriors of Greenwood trained. All the elves present were dressed in the same dark green work tunics and breeches worn by the army soldiers.

Legolas approached the small crowd cautiously at first, not sure how they would react to his unexpected presence. He noticed that the he-elves were gathered around in a circle, their attention focused on some commotion going on in their center. When he heard some shouts and grunts coming from within the training circle, he knew that there was a sparring match going on. But why were there no sounds of swords clashing?

The curious prince immediately darted and jumped around the crowd of tall grown-ups, trying to find a break in the circle where he could sneak a peek at what was happening. He managed to squeeze in discreetly between two soldiers, and was rewarded with a good view of the ongoing fight.

His blue eyes widened when he quickly recognized the fighters. One of them was silver-haired and very stern looking, heavily built and muscular, more than what was usual for elves. Legolas knew him as a dedicated servant of his father—Master Ivenil, training master of Greenwood's forces. The solider he was fighting was taller, built with both power and grace. He had dark hair and fiercely green eyes that now shone with intensity as he circled his opponent. It was his older brother, Prince Tueth.

Legolas watched, mouth slightly agape, as Ivenil charged at Tueth, swinging his fist at him with a swift blow aimed for his face. Tueth quickly dodged this attack, and blocked another by bringing his arm up to meet Ivenil's. Ivenil was able to grab his arm and twist it behind his back. Legolas winced, imagining the pain of this hold, but Tueth remained stone-faced. Before Ivenil could capture his other arm, he swung his fist back over his shoulder, striking him hard on the face and forcing him to lose his hold. As Ivenil stumbled back, slightly disoriented from the blow, Tueth grabbed his tunic and turned, kneeling with the momentum of the pull. The huge he-elf was sent flying over the prince's shoulder, landing face-up on the ground in a small cloud of dust. Tueth was on him in a flash, pinning him to the ground with his knee. The fight was over.

The spectators burst into applause, some of them cheering for the victorious prince. Legolas, forgetting his discretion, jumped up and let out an excited whoop, catching the attention of the soldiers standing around him.

"Prince Legolas!"

When soldiers turned their attention to the elfling and bowed their heads to him in respectful greeting, Tueth noticed the presence of his little brother. He walked over quickly, hands on waist and shaking his head.

"Legolas, what are you doing here?" he asked sternly. "Aren't you supposed to be inside, doing your lessons with Ninniel?"

Legolas smiled at him sheepishly, but shook his head. "Amme said I could take some time off from my lessons whilst she's gone," he said defensively. "I can spend my time as I please. And Ninniel…she didn't say that I couldn't come outside."

Tueth raised his eyebrows at him. "Does she even know where you are right now?"

"Well…no…"

Tueth couldn't help but chuckle. He could see his little brother was not so very different from the way he was as an elfling. The thirst for independence at an early age was clearly a family trait.

"Well, you can't stay out here," Tueth told the younger prince. "We shall be training the whole morning. I cannot watch out for you when I'm this preoccupied. And I cannot risk you getting hurt."

"Can't I join you?" Legolas asked imploringly. "I won't get in trouble, and I can take care of myself, I promise! Ada's been teaching me a little."

"But you know Amme's rules," Tueth reminded. "Only until you have finished your basic schooling can you start formal training with the soldiers. And your age can still be counted on two hands! You have a ways to go, little prince."

Seeing Legolas's downcast expression, Tueth's serious face softened. He bent down, placing his hands on his knees to come face to face with his little brother.

"Look," he said patting the tiny shoulder with a firm hand. "Since I just finished my turn at sparring, I have a bit of time off right now. If you'd like, I guess I can just give you a quick little lesson."

Legolas's face lit up in an instant. "Really?"

Tueth smiled and nodded, straightening up. "What do you want me to teach you?"

"I want to learn what you did just now," Legolas said. "How were you able to bring down Master Ivenil like that? He's bigger than you!"

"It is not about size or strength," Tueth explained. "What matters is how you make use of what you have. You just have to know what to do, how to move."

"But why were you fighting without your knives or swords?"

"It is a useful thing to learn to fight using nothing but one's own hands," Tueth told him. "You will learn to fight in situations wherein you find yourself unarmed. More importantly, you will learn to defend yourself in a way that lessens the risk of killing your opponent. After all, not always do you fight to kill an enemy."

Legolas went wide-eyed, hanging on to his brother's every word. "I never thought of it that way!"

"What move you would you like to learn?"

"The one where you hit Master Ivenil without even looking at him!" Legolas said excitedly. "That was brilliant!" He raised his fists and mimicked a few punches, bouncing skittishly on his feet. "He didn't even see it coming! POW!"

Tueth laughed. "That punch is not really something you learn," he told the eager child. "It comes from instinct. When it seems like your opponent has gotten the best of you, you do whatever you can to get yourself out of trouble." He demonstrated, swinging his right fist back sharply, hitting the air over his right shoulder.

Legolas copied this movement, and Tueth adjusted the position of his arm and taught him to channel force using a proper stance. After a few more tries of the backward punch, Tueth praised him sincerely as a quick learner.

"Now you just have to try it on somebody!" the older prince said, green eyes gleaming. He lifted his gaze, scanning the surroundings before calling out a name. "Master Ivenil?"

Legolas blanched, staring as the master trainer approached them at Tueth's call. Master Ivenil was twice his height, and over three times his weight. His one hand was big and strong enough to crush his arm like a twig. "You would have me fight him?!"

Tueth chuckled. "No other solider but the master trainer would agree to exchange blows with any one of the King's sons. All the others would be too afraid of hurting us, and would hold back in a fight."

"What is his Highness's wish?" Master Ivenil said, bowing his head to both princes.

"Legolas wishes to try one move that I just taught him." Tueth explained, his lips twitching just slightly in a restrained smile.

Ivenil stared down at Legolas for a long moment, eyebrows raised in doubt, but he finally nodded. "I understand." he said briskly.

"Now Legolas…" Tueth said, placing two reassuring hands on the elfling's shoulders. "Master Ivenil will come at you from behind and try to grab you. When he does, you just swing your fist back like we practiced."

Legolas swallowed hard and nodded. He waited for a reassurance that everything was going to be all right, that his brother would make sure that he does not get hurt, but none came.

Tueth set him in position and then backed away. Legolas held his ground and listened intently for Master Ivenil's approach. Though the soldier's footsteps were soft and hardly perceptible, the elfling's ears were sharper. The young prince could see a mental picture in his head of how close his attacker was and how soon before he reached him. He braced himself, ready for the punch, but then suddenly realized that, with his diminutive stature, there was no way his fist would reach Master Ivenil's face. He would hit no higher than his abdominal area, which would certainly bring no pain.

When he sensed a pair of hands reach out to grab him, the little prince panicked. His fist swung wildly, shooting upward instead of back. He felt his small fist connect with something surprisingly soft. When he heard a cry, he whirled around to find Master Ivenil bent over, clutching his nose.

Legolas's jaw dropped open. "I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. "I didn't…I thought…"

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked to up to see his brother standing behind him. The older prince's eyes sparkled with amusement and his shoulders shook with laughter.

"Soldiers don't apologize to opponents they have beaten," Tueth told Legolas, failing to conceal his wide grin. He forced on a serious face before turning. "Master, are you all right?"

Ivenil rubbed his nose one last time before letting his hands fall to the side. His nose was red and swollen from Legolas's blow, but clearly not broken.

"No harm done," the training master grunted, his severe expression just looking comical with his puffy nose and teary eyes. He bowed to Legolas. "An impressive punch for one so young. We look forward to having you train with us soon, your Highness."

At last a smirk actually appeared on the stern training master's face. "Now if you excuse me, I believe I have had my share of beating up from princes for this morning."

When Ivenil left the brothers alone, Legolas turned to Tueth, hanging his head. "I panicked when I thought my fist wouldn't reach him. I did it wrong, didn't I?"

Tueth laughed. "You did it perfectly," he corrected. "I told you, soldiers must also learn to act on instincts, and that is exactly what you did."

He winked at Legolas, who smiled back. "You gave Master Ivenil a hit that he would not forget for at least the next century or so." He tousled the elfling's blonde hair. "A little more practice, and that move shall be yours. Then everyone would know better than to try to sneak up on Legolas Thranduilion!"


	3. Chapter 3 - New Furry Friends

GREENLEAF'S DAY OUT

Approx. Third Age 250

The Woodland Realm, Greenwood the Great

**Chapter 3 – New Furry Friends**

It was awfully nice of Tueth not to surrender him to his nursemaid's charge and cut his morning of freedom short. It was also an unusual decision coming from the sternest and most unyielding of his brothers. Tueth was often almost too rigidly disciplined. He insisted on observing rules and keeping schedule every minute of his every day as though he didn't face a life of immortality ahead of him.

"That is the warrior's way showing in Tueth," Legolas's mother explained, when her youngest son once queried her about this behavior. "Your brother does not wish to be just any warrior in the Woodland army. He seeks to prove himself worthy to become training master someday, and inherit Master Ivenil's position."

"But Amme… Tueth is Ada's son! Ada is King and Tueth is Prince," the little elf had reasoned slowly, his fair eyebrows knitting together. "Can he not have the position of training master simply because he wishes it?"

"No meleth nin, that is not how your father chooses to rule his court," Queen Maereth said. "If it were so simple, then you are right. Prince Tueth would have been granted the commission years ago. He has wanted it for a long time. But so do many of the soldiers in our army, some of who have served the kingdom longer than your brother. They deserve a fair chance to compete for the title of Master Trainer."

She stroked the golden head that rested against her bosom. "But I hope this is clear to you. The King loves all his sons beyond measure, and it is that love that compels him to enforce these rules. Any titles and places of prestige that you may hold, you will have earned through your own labors and merits. He wishes for you to enjoy true honor."

Legolas mulled over this as he meandered down yet another path that wound deeper into the forested palace grounds. He thought about his brother training alongside all the other soldiers. He remembered the admiration that radiated from the crowd of faces, how they applauded as they observed Tueth's skills in action—and then cheered as he won against their teacher in practice combat. They wanted to be like Thranduil's second-born, perhaps just as much as Legolas did.

The elfling consoled himself with this thought, regaining confidence that it should not be long before Tueth achieved his desire. Legolas just wanted his brother to be happy, and to smile more often, as he did while he was giving him boxing lessons.

By this hour, the sun had risen high overhead, shining unhindered upon the sprawling lands of the Elvenking. Legolas realized that he had already wandered quite a distance from the palace, far enough to no longer have even a slight view of its white stone walls or the auxiliary structures that surrounded it. But without fret or hesitation, the little prince shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and kept walking into the thicket.

He felt glad for his decision to venture out into the gardens. The grownups did not often let him go outdoors unless he was accompanied by servants or guards. Once, he complained about this stifling restriction to his eldest brother Mirion, adamant about his ability to take care of himself. Ten years of age, after all, sets him close enough to being grown up.

"We don't do this because we believe you need protecting," Mirion responded, his normally placid face appearing somber. "We are trying to protect others from you!" This was as far as he managed before he burst back into a smile. "Worry not so, little brother. You are merely carrying on the family way. Naneth has raised four sons before you and has learned her lesson—as strong and brave as we may be, it takes a little while longer for us to develop sound judgment. Your independence must be earned, but it will come."

With this admonition hovering on the edge of his thoughts, Legolas wondered if he could push his luck to the limits and wander completely off the royal grounds, to explore the rushing banks of the great tributary that he had seen while travelling with this family down the Old Forest Road. So many wonders that he had such limited access to, suddenly appeared to be within easy reach!

His excitement faltered as swiftly as it rose, when a mental picture of the border sentries crossed his mind. Even he knew his skills were of no match to the sharp eyes of the watch. Woodland soldiers were loyal to their orders alone, and they would apprehend any wrongdoers…even if one should happen to be a royal prince.

For the first time that morning, Legolas felt a wave of guilt crash into his joy. His mischiefs would get not just him into trouble, but Ninniel as well. She certainly did not deserve that.

Perhaps he has enjoyed enough freedom for one day. Perhaps he should surrender himself back to the nursemaid's charge. Perhaps he…

The elfling stopped in his tracks and tipped his head back, raising his nose to the air, in which he suddenly detected a whiff of mixed scents—sweet feed, hay, and rich leather. His ears pricked in automatic delight, and sure enough, he then picked up on the soft neighs of horses in the distance. He was close to the King's stables!

All thoughts of returning to the palace fled his mind as quickly as his feet carried him. He ran ahead, leaping and skirting lightly around obstacles along the path, allowing only instinct and sense to guide him. But once again, it was his keen hearing that pulled him to an abrupt halt.

A low, rumbling growl rolled from behind a line of trees to his right. Legolas shifted course and stepped quickly, but quietly, to emerge into a wide clearing in the thicket.

He immediately spotted the source of the menacing sound. A shaggy grey wolf stalked across the grassy field, its enormous head lowered, teeth bared, yellow eyes glowering at its targeted prey. As it broke into a charging attack, Legolas's gaze darted towards the lone figure on the other side of the green.

In a second, he recognized this unfortunate elf, and every muscle in his small body fired up in alarm. It was his brother, Gelir!

Legolas's fingers closed around the first stone he plucked off the ground, and drawing his arm back, he flung it as hard as he could at the running beast. The rock hit the wolf squarely on the side of its muzzle, close to its eye. It stumbled and jerked its head wildly, startled by the sudden pain.

But the wolf soon recovered, and the first thing it spotted was the scrawny elf-child that whooped and threw up his arms in some perceived victory.

"Uh. Oh." Legolas saw the wolf turn heel and start tearing across the distance towards him. With a piercing shriek, he leaped towards the nearest tree, hands and feet pushing against gnarled bark until he managed to swing onto the loftiest branch. He felt hot, moist breath on his ankle before he pulled his foot out of the snarling animal's snapping jaws.

"Leave me alone, you ugly monster!" Legolas yelled down at the wolf, which had its paws up against the tree trunk, standing nearly completely upright in its effort to reach him. "Or by Eru, I shall throw worse things at you!"

"That's enough! Faradhel—_havo dad_!"

Almost immediately, the wolf ceased its growling and rested on his hindquarters. Legolas's jaw went slack as he watched Gelir walk up and rub the top of the wolf's head, his entire hand fitting neatly between its perked ears. Then the prince planted his hands on his hips and glared up at his younger brother sitting high in the tree.

"What did you think you were doing?" he shouted. "Trying to get yourself killed?!"

"What was _I_ doing?!" Legolas thumped a hand on his chest indignantly. "What are _you_ doing? With that… that…" He pointed an accusing finger at the wolf. It was difficult to call it a monster now that it sat there peacefully, its long bushy tail sweeping the grass with each contented wag.

Gelir sighed loudly, rolling his eyes. "This is Faradhel. We were training. I was teaching him to attack. He was doing exactly has I had ordered."

"Including running me up a tree?"

"You attacked him first," Gelir countered, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. "And he still has his instincts."

Legolas squinted down at the hairy grey beast skeptically. "But why would you train him? Wolves are evil. And ugly. Everybody knows that."

And this was true. Elves worked with hounds and relied on their assistance during hunts, especially when chasing down the elusive Greenwood deer. But wolves were not like the friendly and obedient hounds. Legolas had been regaled with many stories about these beasts and their craving for elven flesh, especially that of little children who liked to wander off into the woods on their own.

Gelir scoffed at the elfling's wisdom. "Do not be so simple in your thinking, little brother. You place too much stock in legends, and appearances can often deceive."

"Is there something about Faradhel that makes him different?" Legolas leaned out further on his perch for a better look. "What is it, then? What makes him special? Where did he come from? Did you capture him out in the woods? Or was it even farther out? To the Iron Hills? The Misty Mountains?"

"Enough of your nattering questions! This is my business and I owe you no explanations about it," Gelir said, with an irritated wave of his hand. "Now get down from there. You look ridiculous."

Legolas scowled at his brother for a moment, but then grudgingly began to scale down the oak. Gelir was not like Mirion, Tueth, or Arvellas, who had patience in spades, even though they also liked to yell at him on occasion. Gelir was closest to him in age—merely twenty and one years older—and yet Legolas felt he often spoke to him as though he carried all the worldly wisdom and authority of their Ada.

"Whoa!" Legolas yelped suddenly. The grip of his soles on the wrinkled bark failed, and though his fingertips clawed frantically at the wood, he felt himself begin to fall to the ground still a dozen feet below. But instead of hitting the dirt, he plopped with an "oof", quite neatly into the outstretched arms of his brother.

"Uh, thank you?" Legolas grinned sheepishly at Gelir, who rolled his eyes in response.

"Aw, look at you two." The princes simultaneously turned their heads to sight a youthful face beaming at them from the tree line. "Now that is a scene to warm the Queen's dear heart, for certain. If only I could paint a picture quickly enough to capture it."

"Darthol!" Legolas leaped to his feet, forgetting to care that his brother had just dropped his hold without warning and nearly caused him to land flat on his bum. Darthol was Gelir's best friend and birth-mate, an elf born in the exact same year. Also like Gelir, he was a hunter in training—an exceptionally gifted one, from what Legolas witnessed of his skills in the archery range. More importantly, he never tried to shoo Legolas away from watching him practice and let him ask as many questions as he wanted.

"What are you doing here?" Gelir asked before Legolas could utter a word. "I thought you were leaving to spend a few days at your father's house."

"That is still my plan. But on my way to stables to collect Sirdal, I chanced upon a rather frantic page of yours, who kept yammering on about a cow of some sort." He paused and his mouth cracked into an even wider smile, suddenly revealing that he was toying with them somehow. "Mellon, I just thought you would like to know that it is finally happening."

Legolas glanced at his brother in confusion, but it was clear from Gelir's face that he understood Darthol's seemingly nonsensical babble. "Already? That is impossible—by my count, the month is too early!"

"Then you must have counted wrong, but do not fret over it. This is nothing we can precisely measure, like the weather. But yes, it is coming all right. You better hurry before-"

"Stay with Faradhel!" Gelir broke into a run and disappeared from view before Darthol could complete his warning.

"Wait!" Legolas shouted in dismay, his head swiveling back and forth between Darthol and the direction in which is brother had taken off. "Wait! What is going on? What is coming?"

Darthol merely winked at him. "What are you standing around here asking me for, silly child? Follow him and you shall see!"

Perhaps his brother would never extend such an invitation, but Darthol's word was good enough for the elfling to heed. Considering it a matter of obedience, Legolas dove through the thicket after Gelir, easily tracking the elder prince's flight towards the stables.

The quick chase ended with Legolas standing outside a simple, unattached shed round the back of the far larger royal stables. Cautiously, so as not to make a sound, he peered through the crack of the door felt slightly ajar.

Gelir was kneeling beside an enormous elk cow that rested on its side upon the hay-covered floor. The creature breathed heavily and frequently reared its head as though in pain, but it remained calm while Gelir whispered close to its ear, his hand hovering above its swollen belly. Then slowly, a small brown lump began to poke out from the cow's nether.

Frozen and silent at the doorway, Legolas was transfixed by the sight. He gaped in wonder at the first birth he had ever witnessed, and within minutes that poking lump emerged fully into a bundle of wet fur and long legs.

All of a sudden Gelir's laughter filled the room, breaking the tense silence. To this sound, the newborn calf opened its eyes and stretched out its new legs. The elk mother lifted her head and bugled softly, but seemed too worn from her labors to rise. The calf propped itself up hesitantly on its spindly limbs and began its first attempt to walk.

Legolas could no longer help himself. He ventured a few steps into the shed, finally catching Gelir's attention. For once, there was no trace of exasperation on his brother's face at the sight of him. Instead, he motioned for Legolas to come even closer.

The elfling reached out with his hand, and the calf wobbled its way towards him until its wet nose touched his open palm. Legolas's breathy laughter of joy and amazement echoed his brother's.

"His name is Alherion," Gelir said, reaching down as well to stroke the elk babe's head.

"Alherion," Legolas repeated. "Alher…. Alher's son?" Alher was their father's Greenwood elk, a creature famed throughout the realm for its fearsome size and majestic beauty. There was no other elk in the realm of its kind, and Alher's disinterest in mating had caused King Thranduil to fear that his great steed would die without offspring to replace it. Until now…thanks to Gelir's efforts.

Gelir nodded. "I will raise him myself," he declared. "And one day, he will serve Ada. This little one shall have the honor of bearing the King of Greenwood on his back."

Legolas look up at his brother, at the resolution on his face and confidence in his tone, and realized how significant this moment this was for him. Suddenly he felt truly glad he had persisted in following Gelir this time, however unwanted his presence was.

"I should like to help you," the younger prince announced. "If… if I may."

Gelir looked back at him, their nearly identical blue eyes catching each other. The smile that shone from his eyes to his mouth told Legolas that, just maybe, he was not an annoyance to him this time.

"My lord?"

A stable hand appeared at the doorway, interrupting the moment. "I came to see if you required any assistance, your highness." His gaze fell upon the smaller prince, and he looked mildly surprised. "Prince Legolas! Forgive me, but the entire palace has been searching for you. Ninniel, she has grown quite frantic."

"It's all right," Gelir rested a hand on Legolas's shoulder as he began to hang his head. "The Prince came out here with me. All is well."

"Shall I escort him back to the palace, sire?"

There was only a brief pause before Gelir shook his head. "No, I will take him inside myself. I wish for him to stay. For a little while longer, anyway."

He grinned and shrugged at the astonished expression on his little brother's face. "We have some plans to make."


End file.
